Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

SPN100 Challenge: sticky. DEW Challenge: a female character & Dean Winchester. #1: Seems like everything's on the web these days. #2: A quest for a midnight snack doesn't turn out quite as expected. #3: A preoccupied Sam finds himself in a sticky situation. Season 11 finale spoiler.

Written for the 'Drabbles Every Weekend' challenge at SPN BigPretzel on LiveJournal.

Three drabbles, two challenges, one post!

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Sticky Situations

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A/N: Seems like everything's on the web these days. 100 words.

Sticky Thread

Charlie sawed at the tough, sticky strands, trying to avoid losing a finger while casting anxious glances over her shoulder.

Behind the web gagging him, Dean made a noise encouraging her to hurry.

"I'm going as fast as I can," she hissed. "I might be a 'legs gal', but I still prefer mine with the usual two, rather than eight."

"She was kinda hot in her human form," grinned Dean, once free, waggling his eyebrows.

Charlie frowned. "You know they eat the male after mating, don't you?" She flicked a rat-sized spiderling off of Dean's shoulder and stamped down, hard.

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A/N: A quest for a midnight snack doesn't turn out quite as expected. Spoilers for season 11 finale. 200 words.

Sticky End

Dean awoke with a terrible hunger. The clock, barely visible in the dark, proved it had been at least four hours since his last meal. He tried to hold off, but in the end, not even the joy of a firm memory-foam mattress was enough to keep him from snacking.

Not bothering with the lights-I'm a Winchester; the night might be dark, but whatever it's full of ought to be terrified of me-he padded down the long corridors to the kitchen. On arrival, he grimaced as his feet made contact with the sticky kitchen floor. Dammit, I only mopped it earlier.

An unexpected noise made him dive for the light switch.

"Mom?" he stammered, as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Sorry honey, didn't mean to wake you," smiled Mary. "You go back to bed, I'll tidy up," she added, as she slit the throat of the last attacking hellhound and tossed it's carcass on the blood-soaked pile with the others.

"It's good to have you back," he mumbled sleepily as, no longer hungry, he did as he was told. It was strangely liberating knowing he was no longer the scariest thing out there.

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A/N: A preoccupied Sam finds himself in a sticky situation. 100 words.

Sticky Situation

"It's a sticky situation," sighed Bela, curling her arms around Sam's shoulders. "You have something I want, but is there anything you want?" she purred.

"Dean would never agree," Sam stammered.

"He doesn't need to know." She arched one immaculate eyebrow. "Unless you wanted him too?"

"No!" declared Sam.

"Good. Big, strapping man like you should be able to say 'no' to his brother." Her hand glided across his torso before travelling further down. "And 'yes' to me."

The dream abruptly faded as, chest heaving, Sam struggled against the damp bedclothes twisted around him. "Oh, God, not again," he gasped.

(;,;)